


I Will Tell You What I've Always Wanted To

by emmerrr



Series: Ronan and Adam navigate life [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Gen, I don't know how to tag this, M/M, Snippets of the summer before Adam goes to college, and all the angst that that implies, it's honestly not that bad, it's mostly fluff I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 08:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10486182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmerrr/pseuds/emmerrr
Summary: Adam and Ronan come to terms with Adam's fast approaching departure. It's a struggle, but they've got each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything for pynch before so sorry if it's a little ooc, I tried. be gentle with me.
> 
> The title is a line from Fears by Twin Wild (which is a great song btw)

Adam pulled up outside the Barns and parked next to the BMW. The shitbox was on it’s last legs, but Adam was determined to keep driving it until it absolutely wouldn’t start anymore, regardless of how often Ronan insisted he could use the BMW instead.

“I can’t show up at Boyd’s in a BMW, Ronan,” he had tried to explain. “I have an image to uphold.”

“And what image is that, Parrish?”

“The image that I actually _need_ that job.”

“You _do_ need that job.”

“Exactly.”

Ronan had relented with an eye-roll so severe that Adam feared he might strain something, but at least he had let it go for now.

Adam got out of the car and looked over at the fields, where he spotted Opal running around in circles. Chainsaw was also nearby, no doubt, but Adam couldn’t see Ronan anywhere. Opal spotted him and waved, so Adam waved back.

“Where’s Ronan?” he called over. Opal pointed towards the house and Adam headed indoors.

It was quiet. Almost _too_ quiet, and Adam thought for a moment that Ronan might be sleeping somewhere. He was about to go upstairs and check Ronan’s room when he heard a scraping noise from the kitchen and he swiftly changed direction.

Sitting alone at the kitchen table and in the process of eating an entire cake to himself, was Ronan. The sight was so bizarre, so at odds with everything Adam knew about Ronan, that it startled a laugh out of him and Ronan jerked his head up and towards the sound. For a split second he looked guilty, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, but then he dug his fork back into the cake and took another huge mouthful.

“What’re you doin’?” Adam asked, his amusement emphasising the lilt of his accent.

“The fuck does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re eating a whole cake.”

“Gold star for Parrish,” Ronan said, spraying crumbs everywhere.

“Yeah, okay, smartass. But why, though?”

Ronan scowled. “I made it for Opal. Wanted to try and get her to eat something other than twigs and leaves.”

Adam eased himself into the chair next to Ronan’s, his joints sore after working at Boyd’s all day. “It went well I take it.”

“She wouldn’t even fuckin’ touch it. Hours this took me, Parrish. Hours.”

Adam looked at the cake, a chocolate sponge hastily decorated with chocolate fudge icing, then he looked across the room where a now empty box of Betty Crocker cake mix sat on the kitchen counter. He looked back to Ronan and quirked an eyebrow. “Hours?”

Ronan sighed in exasperation. “Fine. Like, _one_ hour then. But still. That’s an hour I’ll never get back. And Opal just turned her nose up at it and ran off with Chainsaw to make mud pies or some shit. She’s a hellion, Adam. No manners.”

Adam smirked and nudged his shoulder into Ronan’s. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Excuse _you_ , I have plenty of manners.”

“Yes, well, let me know if you find them.”

“Ha _ha_ , Parrish.” Ronan took another bite of cake and then screwed his face up. It was almost half gone. “Fuck me, why am I still eating this?”

“I don’t know. Why did you even start?”

Ronan shrugged. “To make myself feel better?”

“About what?” Adam asked. Ronan didn’t say anything but he met Adam’s gaze carefully, and Adam understood. It was the elephant in the room — the summer stretched out before them but after that Adam would leave, and Ronan would stay, and that was always what was going to happen. “Oh,” Adam said softly. Then: “Is it working?”

“Not really. I feel pretty sick, Parrish, not gonna lie.” Ronan leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach mournfully. “This was a mistake.”

“Hmm,” Adam agreed, then pinched the fork out of Ronan’s unresisting fingers. He helped himself to a big forkful of cake, and nodded his approval. “It’s good.”

Ronan smiled, small and sharp. “Ah, well. Betty Crocker’s never steered me wrong before.”

“Good old Betty.”

* * *

 

“Ronan,” Blue breathed out in wonder, looking up at all the little dream lights floating in the air. She caught one and as it sat cupped in her hands, it changed colour, going from yellow to purple to green. She looked up and grinned, delighted. “These are amazing.”

Ronan shrugged, nonchalant. “There’s nothing to ‘em, really.”

“I love them.”

“You can take a couple with you if you want.” Ronan glanced back towards the house, where Gansey, Adam and Henry stood in a group around the barbecue. He’d have to head over in a minute; he didn’t trust that any of them knew what they were doing.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just don’t advertise them around to the locals. They’re not easily explainable.”

“Thanks, Ronan.” Blue ran her hands through the air and the lights rippled and changed with the movement. “I can’t believe you did all this for us.” She sniffed. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

“Come on, Sargent, don’t get mushy on me now, this is supposed to be a party,” Ronan grumbled, but he patted her on the head all the same.

“Yes, but it’s a leaving party so I’m allowed to get a _little_ sad.”

“Please don’t,” Ronan frowned. “It’s not like it’s forever, you’ll be back.” It came out sharper than Ronan meant it to.

“I _know_ that, Ronan, but not for a while.” Blue scowled at him. “What’s your problem anyway?” He couldn’t really blame her for asking, as irritating as it was; he’d been a little combative all day.

“Nothing.” Ronan’s eyes felt itchy, and he bit back a snappy retort. He couldn’t say quite why he was feeling argumentative, it was at odds with what he was trying to do here. It had been _his_ idea to throw the Sarchengsey’s a going away party after all. He was happy for them; they were going travelling, which was what they wanted to do, and he wanted them to have a good time. But now that their departure was imminent, he suddenly felt like the world’s biggest party pooper, and his eyes sought out Adam without him meaning to.

Unfortunately, the action didn’t go unnoticed by Blue. “Oh, I get it now,” she said, voice softening somewhat. “Saying goodbye to us now is reminding you that it’ll be Adam in a couple of months.”

“I don’t need you to psychoanalyse me,” Ronan snapped.

Blue held her hands up defensively. “I wasn’t going to!” She crossed her arms in irritation and started tapping her foot, and Ronan could tell that she was going to wait him out until he spit out what was bothering him.

Ronan was stubborn, but so was Blue, and eventually he sighed. He plucked one of his dream lights out of the air and watched it turn a deep indigo. “I guess I’m just having difficulty. . . letting go. Or something. We didn’t even fucking _get_ to say goodbye to Noah, and—” Ronan cut himself off when he saw Blue’s lower lip start to wobble. “Ah _fuck_ , Sargent, don’t, I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her.

“I miss him, too,” she mumbled into his chest.

“I know. Fuck me, I _know_. He was such a creepy little bastard.” Blue let out a noise that was halfway between a snort and a sob. “Jesus Christ, Sargent, you’d better not be snotting all over me.”

Blue gave an exaggerated sniff. “’M not,” she said.

“What’s this? Are we all going to be getting hugs from Lynch?” Henry’s voice rang out from across the yard. “I’ve been dreaming of this very moment.”

“If Jane gets a Ronan hug, I’m _definitely_ getting a Ronan hug,” Gansey said, sounding a little bit put out.

Ronan tightened his grip of Blue slightly. “Fuck off, we’re having a moment here. You’ll get your turn.”

“That’s all I ask,” Gansey said solemnly.

Once Ronan was sure the others had returned to their own conversation, he slowly released Blue and wiped away an errant tear from her cheek. “Some party this is,” he said, and was rewarded with a little laugh.

Ronan often found himself thinking about Noah, even when he wasn’t trying to. It was still so strange that the Noah Ronan knew had been dead long before Ronan ever met him, especially when he considered that Noah remained one of the best friends he had ever had. Noah, who was so good, and kind, and funny; who had kept Ronan’s secrets even before Ronan had acknowledged them himself.

Ronan was already so full of grief — he had bags of it to go round. Grief for his dad, for his mum, for Noah. For Persephone, although a lot of that was to do with the effect it had on Adam and Blue. For the relationship he and Declan used to have when they were kids before everything between them got so skewed. (At least that last one was fixable. Ronan had hope.) He hadn’t meant to upset Blue, though. Then again, she always got upset at the mere mention of Noah. Her grief was a little like Ronan’s; always just below the surface.

“You were right, though,” Blue said at last when she had regained her composure. “We _are_ coming back, at some point. And you know that Adam will too, right? Because _you’re_ here. You’re who he has to come back to.”

“I know that. I _do_ ,” he emphasised when Blue looked doubtful. “He’ll come back in the holidays, and I can go and visit him. I fucking know all of that. But it’s still gonna fucking suck for a little while, at least until I’m used to it. And yeah, I guess you three driving off into the sunset tomorrow is reminding me that summer’s gonna go real fucking fast and I don’t think I’ll be ready when Adam has to leave. I’m not ready for _you_ to leave.” It was more than Ronan had meant to admit, but it was out there now.

“Ronan—”

“It’s fine, Blue. It’s fine,” he said, although he could feel himself getting agitated. She linked her arm through his and leaned her head against his bicep.

“No one’s _ever_ ready to say goodbye. That’s why goodbyes are so hard,” she said matter-of-factly.

Ronan rolled his eyes fondly. “How wise of you.”

They were interrupted when Adam and Gansey meandered over, Gansey easily distracted by all the lights floating in the air around them. Adam sent Ronan an appraising look — because of _course_ he had noticed that Ronan was out of sorts — and Ronan gave him a surreptitious nod. And he _did_ feel a little better; speaking to Blue had lightened the load somewhat. It was still going to hurt like crazy when Adam left, but it wasn’t an ending.

“Have I ever told you what a marvellous creature you are?” Gansey said, looking up at the sky.

“Not today,” Ronan said.

“Well, you are.” Gansey glanced at Ronan and smiled, his boyish smile, not the politician’s son smile.

Adam hooked his chin over the back of Ronan’s shoulder and nuzzled his nose into Ronan’s cheek. “Marvellous,” he agreed, and Ronan leaned back into him. It was alright. Adam was still here. Blue, Gansey and Henry were still here, at least for one more night. Everything was going to be alright.

“Uhh, Lynch?” Henry called. Ronan looked over to see Henry poking at the barbecue with tongs. “I really have no idea what I’m doing. I should not have been left in charge.”

Ronan let out an exaggerated sigh and went to help. “Step aside, Cheng, let me show you how it’s done.”

* * *

 

Adam was sitting in the driver’s seat of the shitbox in Boyd’s carpark, turning the ignition over and over again, to no avail. It just wouldn’t catch.

“Come _on_ , you piece of shit, just get me home, that’s all I ask,” Adam murmured.

Home of course meant the Barns; meant Ronan. Adam had officially moved out of his tiny flat at St. Agnes. It didn’t make sense to keep paying the rent there when he was spending all of his free time with Ronan anyway. It wasn’t a sting to his pride like he thought it might have been, like it would have been to the Adam of a year ago. Hell, of six months ago. But this was fine — Adam still worked at Boyd’s (he’d dropped the other jobs after graduation), his scholarship was all sorted, and he had enough money for his books for the first semester. Ronan would never accept anything like rent money from Adam, but he contributed in other ways, towards groceries and so on. Ronan wasn’t always particularly grateful ( _”Do I fucking look like I need your money, Parrish?”_ ), but he recognised Adam’s need pay his fair share, and it was an arrangement Adam was comfortable with.

Boyd came out of the autoshop, an amused quirk to his brow as he took in the sorry state of Adam in his pathetic little car. Adam finally admitted defeat and pulled the key out of the ignition, then opened the door and turned in the seat so that his feet were on the ground. He looked up at Boyd, who looked back sympathetically.

“She had a good run,” Boyd said. Adam was pretty sure Boyd had a betting pool running with the other employees over how much longer the shitbox would last. Judging by Boyd’s good cheer, Adam surmised that he had won.

“I guess,” Adam sighed. “Can I use the phone?”

“Sure thing.”

Adam followed Boyd back inside. A phone was something else he had been resisting from Ronan so far. A phone, and using the BMW. He knew he was going to need a phone when he left for college, but that wasn’t just yet. Adam was putting it off, which didn’t really make that much sense — it wasn’t like it mattered _when_ he got one. Maybe it was what it represented. He’d need it to stay in touch with Ronan, and Adam didn’t want to think about leaving until he absolutely had to.

Adam went into Boyd’s office and picked up the phone, dialing the number he had memorised. He had programmed the number for Boyd’s into Ronan’s phone, so crossed his fingers that Ronan actually had his phone on him and would pick up.

He did, surprisingly quickly. “Adam?” He sounded a little anxious, and Adam realised belatedly that he had never had to call Ronan from work before — he probably thought something had happened.

“Hi,” Adam said.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just—” Adam sighed. “It’s the shitbox.”

“Ah,” Ronan said, instant understanding. “Has she gone to that scrapheap in the sky?” Adam could _hear_ the smile in Ronan’s voice.

“Don’t be a shit, Ronan.”

“That’s a yes, then.”

Adam ran a hand over his face. It was hot, and he was tired, and he was abruptly upset at the death of his shitty, wretched little car. “Come and get me?” he asked.

“I’m already on my way,” Ronan said, a little softer than before, and hung up.

Ronan’s distaste for traffic laws got him to Boyd’s a lot faster than it would have taken Adam, and he couldn’t help but feel relieved when the BMW pulled into the carpark. Ronan got out of the car and walked over to where Adam was leaning against the Hondayota.

Ronan looked at Adam for one long moment, took in his expression, his posture, and correctly deduced that Adam didn’t want to hear any jokes just yet. He patted his hand on the roof of the shitbox, then jerked his head at the BMW. “C’mon, Parrish. Let’s go home.”

Adam followed him over and got into the passenger seat, watching the shitbox out of the window as Ronan got them moving, until he couldn’t see it anymore. Ronan didn’t say anything until they were halfway back to the Barns. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Boyd’s gonna sell it for parts for me.” Adam shrugged. “Won’t get much, but it’ll be better than nothing, and that’s what I paid for it.” He felt silly, staring out the window all melancholic, upset over a car that had broken down more often than it had worked. But it had been _his_ car; his _first_ car. Another reminder of his independence and autonomy, like the flat above St. Agnes had been. So much was changing and Adam was powerless to stop it.

“Adam?”

He turned his head in the seat so he was facing Ronan. “Yeah?”

“It’s alright, you know. You can use this car. Or if you really don’t want to we can get you another shitty little thing that barely runs. Or I’ll dream you a _new_ shitbox.” He was babbling a little, and Adam frowned.

“It’s fine, Ronan, I’ll use the BMW. Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah.” Ronan glanced at Adam worriedly. “You just seem really upset, that’s all.”

Adam sighed. “I’m just tired. It’s not about the car, not really.”

“What’s it about, then?”

He shrugged. “Feels like an ending? I dunno, it’s dumb.”

Ronan reached across the middle console and found Adam’s hand. Adam linked their fingers together and sighed again. “The tape you made for me is still in there. My Hondayota alonetime mix tape. I won’t be able to get it out, all the electrics are blown.”

Ronan squeezed Adam’s hand. “I’ll make you a new one.”

* * *

 

On the morning of Adam’s last full day at the Barns, Ronan woke up far too early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Adam slept soundly beside him, limbs entangled with Ronan’s, a little pout on his lips that Ronan really wanted to kiss. So he did.

After an hour of staying entwined with Adam’s warmth, Ronan very slowly and carefully untangled himself, pulled on a black tank top and grey sweatpants, then tiptoed out of his room and down the stairs.

The kitchen was still a mess from the night before, pots and pans from dinner that Adam had started washing up until Ronan distracted him and they moved upstairs to Ronan’s room. Every moment not spent touching Adam in some capacity seemed like a wasted one; their blissful summer was all but over and everything was suddenly intense and urgent. But for now, Adam was asleep, and Ronan was going to make him breakfast in bed. To do _that_ , he had to clean the kitchen.

Ronan had half finished when the side door opened and Opal came barging in. She skidded to a halt when she saw Ronan.

“Morning, brat,” he said.

“Kerah,” she replied, sticking her tongue out.

“Where’s Chainsaw?”

“Outside.”

Ronan nodded. “C’mere, grab a towel and make yourself useful.”

Opal cocked her head to the side, considering, then she crinkled her nose in disgust. “No.”

“Gimme a break, kid, I want to make breakfast for Adam but I can’t do that until I’ve finished tidying.”

Opal hesitated, then adjusted her skull cap and took a step forward. “If it’s for Adam, then alright,” she said.

“Gee, thanks,” Ronan said sarcastically, neatly sidestepping when Opal kicked one of her hooves at him.

It was relatively quiet while they did the dishes together, until Ronan started humming the murder squash song and Opal joined in. When all the dishes were clean, Opal looked around the kitchen.

“What now?” she asked.

“Now? Now I’m going to make pancakes.”

“For Adam?”

“Yep. You wanna help?”

Opal nodded, and Ronan got everything he needed, setting Opal up with a bowl and a wooden spoon and directing her on what to do. She was aware that Adam was leaving tomorrow, but Ronan wasn’t quite sure that she had really registered what that meant, and he was apprehensive as to how it was going to go. She and Adam had become incredibly close; both of them were fiercely protective of each other, just like Ronan was fiercely protective of both of _them_.

It was just another thing to navigate, though. Ronan added it to the pile with everything else. He was going to be fine, and Opal was going to be fine, and Adam was going to be fine.

Between the two of them, Adam’s pancakes (and a few extra) got made, somewhat misshapen thanks to Opal’s enthusiasm, but Adam would probably appreciate that. Ronan made up a plate, threw some butter and syrup on the top and put it on a tray. Opal grinned. “They look good,” she said.

“You want one?”

Opal nodded and Ronan tossed her a spare; she caught it in her mouth and ate the whole thing alarmingly quickly, just plain.

“What do you think, brat?”

“I like it.”

“Maybe you can start eating pancakes instead of fuckin’ branches or whatever then.”

“Or, I could eat _both_ ,” Opal said emphatically.

Ronan sighed. “Fine. No one ever listens to me anyway.”

“Bit rich coming from you, Lynch,” came Adam’s voice from the doorway, and Ronan and Opal both whirled around.

“Adam!” Opal leapt forward and grabbed his hand, tugging him over to the table. “We made you pancakes. We were going to bring them up to you, but you’re here now.” She frowned. “You ruined the surprise.”

Adam tucked an unruly tuft of hair behind Opal’s ear. “Sorry, Opal. I’m still surprised though.” He looked at Ronan and smiled, a true Adam Parrish smile, the kind that made birds sing and rainbows appear and Ronan Lynch blush. “Thank you.”

Ronan bit down on a smile of his own. “Eat your fucking pancakes, Parrish.”

* * *

 

Maura showed up early the next morning to pick up Opal and take her to Fox Way while Ronan was taking Adam to start his Ivy League dreams. The goodbye with Opal hadn’t been as traumatic as Adam had been expecting it to be, Opal simply giving him a big hug, flashing him a bright smile and telling him she’d see him soon. Which, really, was the truth. Adam would be back in a little over a month. It would fly by.

Ronan took Opal over to Maura’s car to help her in and to tell her to behave, and Maura took the opportunity to give Adam a hug of her own.

“I’m very proud of you, Adam,” she said, eyes shining, and Adam had to swallow hard against the lump in his throat. How strange that on the day he left for college, it would be someone else's mother saying this to him, instead of his own.

“Thank you,” he said. Maura patted him on the cheek and smiled, then went back to her car. Opal waved out of the window until Adam couldn’t see her anymore, and he had to blink back tears.

Chainsaw circled overhead then flew down and landed on Adam’s shoulder. He stroked her beak absently. “You gonna miss me too?” he asked, and received a squawk in reply before she took off again.

“You ready, Parrish?” came Ronan’s voice from over by the BMW, and Adam turned to look at him.

“In a minute.” He closed his eyes and took a breath, then opened them again and looked over the Barns and all the grounds. He heard Ronan approach and reached out a hand. Ronan took it.

“What are you doing?” Ronan asked softly.

“I’m just trying to memorise it all,” Adam admitted.

“Fuck, Adam, you don’t need to. It’ll all be here waiting for you when you get back.” He squeezed Adam’s hand. “And so will I,” he whispered into Adam’s good ear, leaning his forehead against Adam’s.

“I know,” Adam said. “I’ll just miss it, is all. I’ll miss you.” He hesitated. “I love you, Ronan. I know you already know that, but I wanted to say it.”

Ronan smirked and leaned in to kiss Adam, once, twice, and a third, lingering time. “You are so fucking _dramatic_ , Adam,” he said. “I love you, too.” He pulled away but kept hold of Adam’s hand and dragged him over to the BMW, letting go on the passenger side before continuing round to the driver’s side. “Now get in the fucking car, Parrish.”

Adam got in the fucking car.


End file.
